


Propositions

by micehell



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: Drama, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Incest, M/M, Prostitution, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-23
Updated: 2005-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curt's life is a series of propositions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Propositions

A hand was rubbing comforting circles on his shoulder. He liked it, even if it was rubbing up against one of his bruises, and it was relaxing him enough that he'd almost fallen asleep. His near doze was interrupted though. "Curt, you know you're going to get in trouble when you mouth off to him. Why do you do it?"

Curt sneered. "If I'm going to get hit anyway, I might as well get some of my own back, that's why. Or are you going to pretend that he wasn't going to beat the shit out of me regardless of what I said."

The circles stopped, and he couldn't help the slight cry of protest. A small laugh came, followed by a resumption of the comforting rub. "No. I guess you're right. Something about you just seems to drive him crazy."

"Yeah, the fact that I'm breathing."

A shake of the head. "No, I don't think that's it. I think it's...." Again the circles stopped.

Curt was confused. "Think it's what?"

The warm hand moved further down his back, feeling good until it hit the spot where his father's work boot had caught him. He hissed, trying to move away from the contact, but both hands moved to hold him in place. To embrace him. "Shh, calm down. I didn't mean to hurt you." 

Curt moved further into the embrace, hugging back tightly. So nice to be touched without being afraid. Something only his brother did for him. "S'ok. Just caught me by surprise."

The hands moved up and down his back again, trailing over his shoulders before carefully skimming down his spine. The pattern of the movement was random, growing broader, growing bolder. The hands moved to cup his ass, kneading the flesh a little.

Curt froze at the touch, a little nervous. But the hands just continued their massage, not going any further, and he relaxed once again. He should have known his brother wouldn't hurt him. He remembered another time, a first time, when he'd been lying in bed crying from something his mother had said to him. His brother had laid down beside him then and touched him. Had made him feel good. So good that he couldn't even remember what it was his mother had said to him. 

It had happened many times since then; when his day was going bad, when he was hurt, when he was crying. Heck, sometimes even when he was having a good time. Sometimes he'd be touched; sometimes he'd do the touching. Though mostly his brother wanted him to use his mouth, which was kind of hard on him. He didn't really like it too much, but then it was hard to argue about it when he had something in his mouth. And even though it was uncomfortable, he liked how it pleased his brother. 

He liked to please his brother. "Whatever you want."

Lips brushed his forehead, and he could feel them curve into a smile. "That's my boy. You'll like this, though. It might hurt a little, but it'll feel good, too. I promise."

It did hurt a little, but it did feel good, too. And, as always, it proved someone in his family loved him. 

::::::::::

"Come on, kid. You know you hate it in the demerit room. The tiny space, the no light, the too-tight clothes. But you're already at eighteen demerits, and two more will put you in. Now, I can come up with a reason here and now to give you two more, or you can come up with a reason here and now for me to take some away. What's it going to be?"

Curt shook. He hated the 'hospital'. He hated the demerit room. He hated this orderly. He hated his family for putting him here, and his brother for not saving him. For not being here with him.

But mostly he hated himself. For being naive enough to believe that anyone cared about anyone but themselves. For being stupid enough to mistake lust for kindness. For whoring himself out to this jerk just to avoid the demerit room.

And for coming when he did. 

::::::::::

"New in town, aren't you? No, don't bother denying it. I can tell." He was a huge man, dark and greasy looking, if a little stupid. He stood there, trying to look concerned and solicitous, but instead looking horny and soliciting. 

It was a look that Curt had seen before, and he knew what the proposition was even before it was made. Of course, unless he wanted to find himself being fucked for nothing, he needed someone like this. But that didn't mean he was going to be taken advantage of. "I get 75% of my take, and you only hit the johns that get out of line. Never me. Do you understand?"

The guy looked surprised, but that quickly vanished. He looked Curt over as if he were a used car that someone was trying to foist off on him. "50%, and I'll beat the shit out of you if I catch you breaking my rules. Other than that, I'll leave you be."

Curt shook his head. "No. 70%, and I'll cut you if you so much as touch me."

A glare that fazed Curt not at all. The glare relented. "65%, and I'll leave you alone unless I find you keeping money back."

Curt nodded. Better than he'd expected. Not that he believed that he was safe, but it would probably slow any potential abuse down a little. "Done deal. I need a place."

The business-assessing gaze changed back to the sex-assessing gaze. "You'll stay at mine tonight. I'll find you someplace of your own later."

The sex was so bad that Curt couldn't even fake arousal. But the guy didn't really seem to care. Which was good. Maybe Curt wouldn't have to cut this one.

::::::::::

Middle-aged face, middle-classed clothes. Looking for a bit on the rough side before he went home to his 'dear wife'. "Hey, you. How much for a fuck?"

Hmm, the asshole was big, and probably looking to work off some violence that he'd never dare against his country club wife. Better make it worth his while. "Fifty, and you pay for the room."

The man looked him over, judging his worth. Curt didn't care about worth, only about price, and he moved his body to show he was worth the one he'd set. 

A nod of the head. "Ok. Get in."

It wasn't a good time for Curt, but he got what he'd asked for. Sometimes making them pay was the best you could hope for.

:::::::::: 

"I don't do credit. You either cough up the money, or I don't cough up the drugs."

Curt was shivering with withdrawal. Fuck, he needed something soon. "Come on, man. Just this once."

The guy just shook his head. "Yeah, it's always just this once."

"Please. I'll make it up to you."

A look. "Well... I guess I might be willing to consider a trade."

Curt shook with something besides withdrawal now. He'd given that up. He wasn't an underage runaway anymore, having to take what he could get because he couldn't get anything legally. He was a musician, with an actual band, and they sometimes had gigs twice a week. He wasn't going to be a loser anymore. He wasn't going to fuck anyone he hadn't propositioned himself. "Not that. But I got gig coming up on Saturday. I could pay you then."

A shake of the head. "No deal. I give you enough horse to get you by until your gig, and you give me your ass. Other than that, get lost."

He was free to refuse. Just like he was free to quit heroin anytime he wanted. He could go to the clinic, get some methadone. Really turn his life around for once.

The guy let him take a hit before he fucked him, so they both enjoyed themselves.

::::::::::

"What Jerry's trying to say is do you want to come to London to cut a record?"

Curt looked at the pretty little boy across from him. He had to admit, it was the nicest proposition he'd ever got. He wondered what he'd have to do for it. 

The pretty eyes stared at him earnestly. "But how can we help you? You must tell us. What do you need?"

Well, what he needed to know was what was really being offered, and what he'd be expected to give in return. The bare essentials of life. He had to assess this man, and quickly, before he found himself caught up in something he possibly couldn't handle.

Well, the best way to see the true face of the predator was to show them your weakness. "Everything."

But there wasn't any sign of the predator in Brian's smile. 

Not enough, then. Curt went full out. "See, heroin was my main man. But I'm on the methadone. I'm finally getting my act together. I mean, you say you want to help? I say far out. You can be my main man."

Still no sign of the predator, only a lovesick puppy. Not that Curt trusted that, but, still, it was the nicest proposition he'd ever got. 

At least the sex was great when he got fucked over.

::::::::::

As he walked among the hustlers, he felt strangely at home. He'd been one of them, once. Knew some of the demons that drove them, still felt too many of them himself.

When the car started to follow him, he smiled. How many times had this scene played out. He'd have thought he looked too old for this crowd, but maybe this one didn't want the illusion of innocence.

He played it for a moment, to get a look at the driver. And was surprised. He certainly hadn't expected to see him here. Hadn't expected the door to open, and an inviting hand to reach out. Hadn't expected to take Jack Fairy up on his silent proposition.

Hadn't expected something that felt so damn good to leave him feeling so bad. 

::::::::::

He'd come a long way since the needy little boy who'd taken whatever affection he could get. And nowhere near far enough. He had to make a break from this. No more being propositioned. No more making them either. Curt needed to find Curt before he tried to give him away again.

But then a glimpse of blue caught his eye. Not the right blue, but enough alike to bring on the need, just another in a long line of addictions. He remembered a line from a song he used to like. 'I thought that I was over you'. But he wasn't a crying child anymore.

He was an adult; this kid was close enough as made no difference, though he was certainly younger than Curt had been at that age. Still, he'd do all right by him. Treat him nice. Have some fun. He wouldn't lie to him as he'd been lied to. Wouldn't make promises he had no intention of keeping. His swan song of propositions, as it were.

And if it wasn't the best sex he'd ever had... well, it was one of the few times he'd had sex where no one got screwed. 

/story


End file.
